


Time to Kill

by kenchang



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-08 08:33:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21473098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenchang/pseuds/kenchang
Summary: The Joker starts to get comfortable with murder and chooses his next victim.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Contains character breaks and inconsistencies to source material. It's just fan fiction after all.

Killing is not at all like Hollywood presents in its movies. At least not to former stand-up comedian turned infamous criminal, Arthur Fleck, aka the Joker. When Arthur kills someone, he isn't plagued by his conscience. He doesn't spend his nights drinking to numb the guilt. He doesn't even lose sleep. He doesn't worry about things like getting caught by the police, spending the rest of his life in jail, or being someone's prison bitch. No, for Arthur Fleck, killing is no different from any other typical human action or reaction, like eating or having sex.

Sitting behind the wheel of an inconspicuous rented car, he watches as his target, Sergeant Dwayne Worthington, exits through the front door of the simple two story house across the street. The sergeant's young, beautiful golden-haired wife follows him outside. The couple kiss lovingly before the husband says goodbye and starts jogging down the street.

His wife waves to him and shouts, "Say hi to the boys for me!"

"I will!" he shouts back.

"Have fun! But not too much!"

Dwayne chuckles and says, "I won't!"

Arthur stares in awe at the jogger. Dwayne had always been big for his age, and it appears that he just kept getting bigger and bigger since. He has to be at least six foot five, 260 pounds, and built like a linebacker.

Arthur sighs to himself and grumbles, "This might be more challenging than I thought."

He opens the glove compartment and checks the revolver inside, makes sure it's loaded. Then he starts the car and slowly drives after his prey.

#

Late that night, Dwayne and a few other Marines from his team drunkenly stagger out of the bar. The raucous bunch make their way to the parking lot where they shake hands, hug, fist bump, or high five each other. Most of them pile into a truck with the unfortunately sober designated driver of the night. Dwayne and Sam Johnson, a shorter but well-muscled young man, wave as their friends drive off. The two remaining men are from this neighborhood and opt to walk home, each holding a bottle of beer in hand.

As they chat and walk along a dimly lit road, they pass by a skinny mime in white makeup.

The mime does a little performance for them, but when he extends a hat for some change, Dwayne jerks back and says, "Jesus! Stay away from me! You people gimme the creeps."

The other Marine laughs and they continue walking.

But after a few minutes, Sam looks behind and says, "Dude, that freak is still followin' us."

"What?!" Dwayne exclaims.

He turns and sees the mime standing about 20 feet behind them.

"Look, buddy, we got nothin' for ya'!" Dwayne shouts at the street performer. "Go on home! Isn't it a little late to be doin' whatever it is you people do?!"

The mime just quietly stands there, staring at him.

"Son of a bitch," Dwayne growls and marches towards the stranger.

"Hey, Dwayne. Take it easy," Sam says.

He grabs his friend's arm, but Dwayne angrily shakes his hand off.

"Whaddaya want? Huh?!" the sergeant asks, roughly shoving the performer back with one hand.

"That," the mime answers. "I didn't come here for the war hero. I came here for the bully."

"What are you-?"

The mime pulls a revolver from his waistband and shoots Dwayne in the chest. The big man falls back. His beer bottle shatters against the pavement.

"What the fuck-?" Sam gasps.

He drops his own bottle and reaches for his semi-automatic pistol, but several bottles of beer earlier have slightly dulled his supposedly superior speed and reflexes. The mime shoots him twice, once in the midsection, another in the throat. The Marine collapses. He coughs out blood and dies a few seconds later with his eyes open.

The Joker looks back and forth at his two new victims like a painter admiring his latest work of art. Then, he takes Sam's pistol and starts to victoriously dance away with a gun in each hand, when he suddenly hears a roar from behind him.

He turns around a second before Dwayne tackles him to the ground. Both guns clatter across the pavement, out of the Joker's reach. The wind gets knocked out of him. Sweaty, breathing hard, and bleeding from a painful wound, Dwayne leans back. And while pinning the mime down with his left hand, he punches him in the face with the right. The sergeant's injury has weakened him. Still, the punch is strong enough to draw blood. He punches the mime again and again and again. Strangely, the performer, bleeding from his nose and mouth, starts laughing. Even stranger, Dwayne finds the laughter somewhat familiar.

"Fleck?" he asks.

The Joker grabs the broken beer bottle and uses the jagged end to stab Dwayne in the left side of his neck. Blood erupts from the wound. The big man's eyes open wide in shock. He staggers back and falls on his butt. His hand is pressed against his neck, blood flowing between his fingers.

The Joker groans as he slowly forces himself to his feet. He drops the bottle in favor of his revolver and the semi-automatic, then he walks towards Dwayne.

"How the heck are you still alive?" the Joker asks. "Those massive pecs of yours must work like body armor or something, right?"

Gasping for breath and bleeding all over the ground, Dwayne wheezes, "So you become the Joker because I used to dunk your head in the toilet? That was decades ago. We were kids, for Chrissake!"

"Dwayne, Dwayne, Dwayne, as usual, you think this is all about you. God, that massive ego. It's always about you, isn't it? Class president, football star, war hero. Well, guess what, Dwayne? IT'S NOT ALWAYS ABOUT YOU!" the Joker shouts, pacing back and forth, waving his guns in the air. "You think you're special because you bullied me in school? You're not special. You're a dime a dozen. I've been putting up with cruel, arrogant assholes like you all my life. You actually think I became the Joker because of you? YOU?!" The Joker laughs again. "How conceited. I'VE ALWAYS BEEN THE JOKER! I just didn't know it back then."

"So why kill me?"

"WHY?! Because it's time."

Dwayne frowns in confusion and asks, "Time for what?"

The Joker smiles and answers, "Time to kill. See, I haven't killed anybody in a while and I'm afraid I'm starting to get rusty."

"You fucking lunatic."

"As for the question: why you? I suppose the best answer would be…why not you? You're not exactly a big thorn in my side, but you are a long overdue itch that needed scratching."

The madman points his guns at Dwayne.

"W-W-Wait! Don't kill me!" the sergeant begs. "I have a wife and kid."

The Joker asks, "Is that something you really want to share with a lunatic? That you have a defenseless wife and kid at home?"

Dwayne's eyes blaze with fury. He growls, "You stay away from my family or I'll-!"

"Relax," the infamous criminal interrupts. "I'm not going to harm your family. I was just joking."

He shoots Dwayne again. But he makes sure this time and empties both guns into him.

After the last bullet is fired, a dog can be heard barking in the distance. When the dog calms down, the night becomes silent once more. The Joker turns and leaves Dwayne lying motionless in a pool of blood. The criminal tries to dance away like he did earlier, but it makes his side hurt. He hobbles away into the darkness instead just as he hears the faint sound of a police siren.

#

A few days later in a different city, Arthur sits on a park bench, feeding pigeons.

The woman reading the paper next to him hisses, "This Joker is a menace. Men like him are what's wrong with this country."

Arthur looks at the article she's reading. The headline reads, "WAR HERO SURVIVES JOKER ATTACK!"

"Seriously?!" Arthur thinks. "How many times do I have to shoot this guy?!

He is so overcome by disbelief that it makes him cackle helplessly.

The woman glares at him and asks, "What's so funny?!"

"I really have gotten rusty," Arthur answers, wiping tears from his eyes as he chuckles. Then he points his revolver at the woman's face and says, "Oh well. Practice, practice, practice."

The woman's eyes bulge, and she fearfully gasps just as Arthur squeezes the trigger, the gunshot scaring the birds away.

END


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into the Joker's sad past as a reporter from the Daily Planet interviews someone who was once very close to Arthur Fleck.

Tears flow down Armand Castro's eyes as he watches his favorite soap, The Nights of our Times.

"But why did she have to die?" he whimpers. "She was so young. And they were so in love!"

He hears someone knocking on the door of his small, cheap apartment which he promptly ignores. But a few seconds later, he hears the knocking again, louder this time.

"I already told you, Mrs. Cortez!" he shouts irritably. "I'll pay the rent by the end of the week!"

"Mr. Castro, this is Alex Cooper," a man's voice calls from the other side of the door. "I'm a reporter from the Daily Planet!"

"Oh my," Armand excitedly thinks. "Why would a reporter from a big newspaper want to talk with me?"

He wipes away his tears with a hankie, lowers the TV's volume, gets up from his old, favorite chair, and crosses the room to the door.

He cracks it open and says, "Yes?"

"Mr. Castro?" a man in a hat and coat asks.

"Yes. What's this about?"

"I'd like to ask you questions about Arthur Fleck, if that's okay."

"Oh my! The Joker!"

"Yes. I understand you went to school with him."

"Yes, yes. My, that was a long time ago."

"May I come in?"

"Of course!"

Armand opens the door and lets the reporter in.

"Alex, wasn't it?" he asks.

"Yes. Alex Cooper," the reporter answers and extends his hand.

Armand shakes it and politely says, "Oh, let me hang your coat."

"No, thank you. I'm feeling a little chilly tonight."

"Oh, I apologize. The heater's been broken for ages," Armand informs the guest while pulling his long, thick robe tighter around himself. "I've complained to the landlady several times, the stingy bitch. Oh, please sit. I'll make us some hot coffee to warm ourselves."

"Thank you very much. You're too kind."

Alex finds a chair and his host walks to the kitchen counter.

As Armand searches the cupboard for the coffee jar, he thinks, "I'm going to have my name in a major metropolitan newspaper article! What if my interview becomes instrumental in the Joker's capture? I'll be famous! I can't wait to tell Mom."

His entire body shivers with excitement.

"Here you go," he says, handing his guest a warm cup of coffee.

Then he switches the TV off, sits opposite the reporter, and crosses his legs while blowing on his own cup.

"Mmm! This is damn good coffee!" Alex exclaims after taking a sip.

"I'm a barista," Armand giggles. "Oh, but I just do that part-time. I'm really an actor."

"Really?"

"Have you seen Sofia's Mountains?"

"I…don't think so. Are they any good?"

"It's the title of a movie I was in."

"Oh! Uhm…it's a porno?"

"No. No, it's a drama. I was Filipino fisherman. Those are my usual roles. Filipino waiter, Filipino gangster, Filipino barber,…"

"So you're an extra."

"For now. Hollywood hasn't noticed my talent yet."

"Well, they'll definitely notice you after I finish this article."

Armand giggles excitedly again then asks, "Why me? Like I said, I haven't heard from Arthur Fleck in ages."

Alex takes another sip then explains, "Everyone's talking about the Joker like he's some twisted symbol of our society. I want to write about the man. And you were Arthur Fleck's best friend."

Armand's eyes bulge, and he nearly shouts, "WHAAAT?! Where did you hear that?!"

"From Sergeant Dwayne Worthington."

"Oh. You've spoken to Dwayne," the barista says, becoming somber. "It's horrible, what happened to him."

"Yes. It's a miracle he's alive. So are you saying the sergeant is mistaken?"

Armand sighs and answers, "Arthur Fleck didn't have friends. He had this condition."

"Yes. I know about the laughing."

"I felt sorry for him. I spoke to him because no one else would. He creeped them out." Then the barista leans forward and whispers, "You know something? I've always known he would go crazy."

"You knew he would become the Joker?!"

Armand nods and says, "I can see auras. He had this dark, evil aura around him."

"Really? Can you see my aura?"

"Oh, yes. You have this bright, strong glow. You're going places. You're going to be famous!"

"Well, maybe we both will when this story comes out."

Armand laughs excitedly, leaning back in his chair.

"Well, since Dwayne saw it fit to talk about me behind my back, then I guess it's just fair that I give you some dirt about him," he says in exaggerated deviousness. "You know, everybody thinks he's Captain America. But the truth is Captain America himself would hate Dwayne Worthington. He made Arthur's school life a living hell!"

"He bullied him," Alex says.

"Bullied isn't a strong enough word. He tormented that poor boy on a daily basis. It got to the point where Arthur was so afraid to go to school, the mere thought of it would make him vomit."

"I hear that he got beat up so bad once, he got hospitalized."

"Oh, you know about that."

"I've done my research."

Armand breathes in deeply and looks beyond the reporter as he tries to recall the past.

"We saw Dwayne and his friends smoking pot at the school grounds," he recounts. "Arthur wanted to rat him out to a teacher. Not because it was the right thing to do, but because he wanted to get him back. I tried to talk him out of it, you know? Because revenge never solves anything. I knew it would lead him down a dark path because-"

"Because you saw his aura," Alex finishes the sentence for him.

"Exactly! But before Arthur could tell a teacher, Dwayne and his friends found out somehow. They waited for him at the gate the next day. I tried to stop them. I tried to-"

Armand stops when he sees the reporter chuckling. Alex's shoulders are shaking, and he is covering his mouth with his hand, trying to stop himself from laughing.

The barista frowns and asks, "What is it? What did I miss?"

The reporter explodes into laughter.

"That's-That's not how it happened!" he says as he cackles. "You sold Arthur out to Dwayne…because you wanted to be one of the cool kids!"

Armand gasps and angrily shrieks, "That is a lie! Who said that?! Dwayne?!"

Suddenly, Alex's face darkens, and in a sinister voice, he hisses, "Dwayne didn't tell me a single thing. He doesn't need to. I was there."

The color drains from Armand's face. The cup of coffee shakes in his trembling hand.

He squeaks, "A-Arthur?"

As he fearfully leans back, his chair topples, and he falls. His cup shatters against the wooden floorboards.

"You know, it's funny that you didn't recognize me," Arthur tells him. "Sure, it's been a long time. I've lost a lot of weight. And I put on some makeup to disguise myself. Well, not my more famous clown makeup. That wouldn't have made any sense. But still, you had to have seen what I look like now on TV."

"How can I?!" Armand shrieks. "Everytime they show you on the news, you're wearing that ridiculous clown makeup!"

"Oh, right. The media only cares about the Joker. They can't sell stories with just boring, old Arthur Fleck." Arthur pulls a revolver from his coat pocket and growls, "Well, let's give them a story to sell."

"NO NO NO! Arthur, don't kill me!" Armand begs on his knees. "I was your best friend!"

"Really? I thought you just felt sorry for me."

"I thought you were a reporter! You're a wanted man! I couldn't tell a reporter that I was your friend!"

"That worked like a charm, didn't it? I knew that pretending to be a reporter would easily get me through the door. You've always wanted to be famous. You couldn't resist the chance to get your name in the paper. You were so eager that you didn't even ask to see my fake press ID. And I worked so hard on that, too. But don't worry. I'll keep my promise. You'll get your name in the paper…as the Joker's next victim."

Arthur points the gun at Armand. Tears pour from the barista's eyes, and this time he's not crying for some fictional character that just died on TV.

"I'm sorry," Armand sobs. "I'm sorry I betrayed you. But I wasn't the guy that beat you up! I wasn't the guy that sent you to the hospital!"

"No," Arthur answers. "You're worse. At least with Dwayne, I always knew where I stood. But you? Heck, you didn't even visit me at the hospital."

"OK! I get it! I'm an asshole! But I don't deserve to die for it!"

Armand begins to wail hysterically. Arthur gets down on one knee. He gently places his hand on the shoulder of the man he had once thought of as his only friend and tries to calm him.

"Shhshhshh…" Arthur croons. "It's okay. I know you don't deserve to die. Dwayne doesn't deserve to die. We were kids. Kids do stupid things."

"I know, right?" Armand whimpers, finally starting to calm down.

"There's just one problem."

"What's that?"

"Oh, haven't you heard? I've gone crazy."

Arthur quickly presses the gun's barrel under Armand's chin and squeezes the trigger. Blood, skull fragments, and brain matter explode out the top of Armand's head. His body almost noiselessly falls on its side.

Arthur stands and just silently stares at his latest victim for a few seconds. Then he shoves the gun back in his coat pocket and calmly walks out of the apartment.

#

Armand's murder does make the news, though not in a Daily Planet newspaper but in a local tabloid. Since there weren't any witnesses, no one ever knew that he was murdered by the infamous Joker. The short article about him does not even make the front page. And since crime is rampant in his city, his death pretty much goes unnoticed.

END


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every boy remembers that special girl that broke his heart. Not all of them try to kill her several years later.

Young Arthur Fleck's childhood has been pretty rough. He's been cursed with a condition where he laughs even when he doesn't find anything funny. He hasn't made any friends. And for some reason, bullies are drawn to him.

But today is different. Today is a rare good day. Today, he is walking Mae Cheng to her class. Mae is neither the prettiest nor most popular girl in school, but in young Arthur's eyes, she is perfect. They've only gone out once. It was awkward like most first dates. But like most young boys with very little relationship experience, he thinks she is the one.

"So I had a great time yesterday," he nervously tells her.

"Yea, it was nice," she answers shyly.

"S-So…you wanna go out again sometime?"

"Sure. Why not?"

"Cool," he says, trying to hide his excitement.

Only when she enters the classroom and shuts the door does he exclaim, "YES!"

He starts to do a celebratory dance in the hallway when he notices Mae's ex-boyfriend, Bart Simmons, staring at him. Hurt and anger are evident in the other boy's eyes.

Arthur lowers his head and tries to walk past him when Bart says, "You know she's just using you to punish me, right?"

Arthur says nothing and keeps walking.

Bart yells behind him, "Open your eyes, man! What could she possibly see in you?!"

And of course, Bart was right. For such is the tragedy that is Arthur Fleck's life. After his last class, Arthur goes looking for Mae to walk her home. He finds her in the parking lot talking with Bart. A few seconds later, he sees them kiss.

He wants to confront them. A stronger, braver boy might have. But Arthur is not a strong, brave boy. Arthur is a coward. He turns and runs away, laughing maniacally as tears fall from his eyes. He is so heartbroken that he fails to see the speeding car when he crosses the street.

#

The years pass. Arthur is now an adult. He also happens to be a lunatic and a murderer known as the Joker.

Facing a mirror in an apartment in the seedy part of Gotham City, he covers his face in white makeup. Then, he draws a short vertical blue line across each of his eyes and colors his lips and the tip of his nose red. He pulls up the left sleeve of his purple suit to uncover an old, ugly scar on his forearm; a bitter reminder of his horrific accident in front of the school.

Then he takes a revolver from his pocket to make sure that it is loaded. Afterwards, he snaps the gun's cylinder back into place.

It is time to kill again.

#

For days, Arthur has been watching Mae Cheng covertly from a distance, studying her routine. Every night, when most have gone to sleep, she would sit on a solitary bench near the street under the light of a lamppost. Sometimes, she would read a book. Other times, she would just stare at the stars. Tonight, Arthur is done watching.

"I've been expecting you," Mae tells the Joker when he finally reveals himself from behind the shadows of the trees. "First, the bully. Then, the traitor. I figured it would only be a matter of time before you went after the girl that broke your heart. That's why I've been coming to this spot every night since I heard you shot Dwayne and Armand. Most people don't know you killed Armand, but I do. Do you know why I chose this place?"

The Joker looks around and says, "This is where I got hit by that car."

Mae frowns and says, "What? No. You never got hit by a car."

The Joker stares at her in quiet confusion.

"I remember it like it was yesterday," Mae continues. "Bart wanted to talk. He told me that he was sorry, that he had changed, that things would be different this time. And like a fool, I believed him. We kissed. Then I heard you laughing. That's when I figured out that the kiss was for your benefit. He was staking his claim. Marking his territory. He smiled so smugly. I called him a bastard and slapped him across the face. Then I chased after you. I called your name out over and over, but you couldn't hear me. That's when the car came. That's when I pushed you out of the way."

The Joker's eyes bulge in shock.

He yells, "No! That's not what happened! You're trying to trick me to save yourself! Well, it won't work. I have proof!"

He rolls up his left sleeve. There is no scar.

"Where is it? Where is it?!" he screams, frantically rolling up his other sleeve and still finding nothing.

"Looking for this?" Mae asks, showing him an old, ugly scar on her forearm. "You must have seen it when you visited me at the hospital. They had me doped on painkillers so I was barely conscious, but I knew you were there. When I finally came to, I was told you had moved. Nobody knew where."

The Joker gasps and staggers backward. Mae stands up and takes a step towards him.

She says, "Arthur, give yourself up. You need help."

The Joker glares at her and growls, "I don't need help. I don't need anyone."

He turns and marches away. Mae doesn't chase after him like she did before. She knows that she can't save him this time. But she prays that Arthur meets someone that CAN save him one day.

#

"Coming! Coming!" Bart Simmons yells irritably after a knock on his door rouses him from sleep.

Dressed only in a white undershirt and checkered boxer shorts, he drunkenly forces himself off the bed.

"SHIT!" he shouts after nearly slipping on an empty beer bottle.

When he opens the door to his trailer, he is surprised by the sight of a green-haired clown in a purple suit smoking a cigarette.

"Bart Simmons?" the clown dryly asks.

"Yea," Bart answers. "The fuck do you want?"

"What do I want," the Joker repeats. "You know I had this big speech prepared. It's beautiful. Academy award winning stuff. But I'm having such an emotionally draining night. So I'll just kill you."

The Joker pulls out his revolver and shoots Bart in the stomach. Bart yelps and staggers back. He stares down in shock at the growing red stain in the front of his shirt. His legs become weak, and he falls to his knees.

Bart looks up at the clown and asks, "W-Why…?"

The Joker shoots him between the eyes. Bart's head violently jerks back, then he falls face down on the ground.

"Hmm. That actually made me feel better," the Joker observes in amusement.

He flicks his cigarette on the corpse, then he casually walks away.

END


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dirty cop tries to make amends by attempting to put an end to the Joker.

A long time ago, I was the most celebrated police detective in Gotham City. I was good at my job. Too good in fact, that when I uncovered the largest illegal drug syndicate in the city, the drug lords offered me a hefty bribe to look the other way. And that's exactly what I did. I took the bribe. And for years, I stuffed my pockets with their dirty money. Until the last bribe I took turned out to be an IA sting. Oh, my powerful criminal connections worked their magic, made sure I didn't do any time, but my law enforcement career was finished. Broke my parents' hearts.

Today, I'm a private investigator. And business has not been good. Basically, all I do is follow around schmoes and secretly photograph them to reassure their wives that they're not cheating.

But all that's gonna change. See, in the very near future, I'm gonna be the guy that catches the Joker.

#

I gotta hand it to Arthur Fleck. That whole clown shtick is a stroke of genius. It's why the cops can't catch 'im. They take one look at the Joker, and they forget that he's just a man. They think he's some symbol of rebellion. The cops keep lookin' at the bigger picture, they're missin' all the tiny details. But I won't. All that hi-tech crime detecting crap they got now is no match for good ol' fashioned detective work.

The first thing I gotta do is talk to Sergeant Dwayne Worthington. I find him in the military cemetery. He's easy to spot. The guy's as big as a mountain. And built like one, too. He looks like an Egyptian warrior king. He should be swinging a scimitar instead of leaning on that walking cane. It's a miracle he could stand at all, after all the bullets they pulled out of 'im. He's somberly looking down at the grave of one Sam Johnson, a guy that was not as lucky when the Joker attacked.

"Sorry about your friend," I tell him.

He glances at me and says, "He wasn't just a friend. He was a brother."

"I know. I had brothers in the military, too. A long time ago."

"You knew Sam?"

"No, Sergeant Worthington. I'm here for you. I called your house earlier. Your wife told me you were here. I was in the area, so I thought I'd come over, ask you some questions."

"The cops already asked me questions."

"Yea, but they asked the wrong ones. And I'm not a cop. Not anymore. But I still get mistaken for one. My name's Liam Forsythe. I'm a private eye. I'd like to know why the Joker tried to kill you."

"Because he's insane. Isn't that reason enough?"

"The cops think so. That's why they didn't bother digging any deeper. But I did. Turns out you and Arthur Fleck went to the same school."

He glares at me but says nothing.

I ask, "Do you know an Armand Castro?"

He still says nothing.

So I continue, "Someone shot him point blank right under the chin. Blew the entire top of his skull off."

Dwayne's eyes bulge with shock.

"Castro's dead?!" he exclaims.

"So you do know 'im," I say. "Listen. The sooner you level with me, the sooner I can catch the son of a bitch that killed Sam."

He lowers his eyes and sighs. When he looks up, he admits, "Alright. It's true. I knew Arthur Fleck."

"Why didn't you tell the police?"

"Because I bullied him. My friends and I beat the shit out of him so bad once, he got sent to the hospital. The press gets wind of that, and they'll say it's all my fault. They'll get some shrink to go on TV and say I'm the reason Fleck became the Joker."

"Are you?"

"No. Fleck himself told me so. He said he was always the Joker and just didn't know it yet."

"Don't worry about your all American image. Your secret's safe with me. I just wanna catch the guy. So who else bullied him in school?"

He chuckles bitterly and says, "Who didn't? He had that laughing condition. He might as well have a target painted on his face."

"Off the top of your head, who would he kill next?" I rephrase the question.

He shakes his head, looking around the ground for answers.

"I don't know," he answers. "Uhm…Pedro Maivia and Rocky Kingston."

"The friends of yours that sent Arthur Fleck to the hospital?" I ask.

"Yea. We kinda drifted apart a little after I joined the Marines. But Pedro visited me in the hospital after I got shot."

"You got their phone numbers, addresses, or something?"

"I don't have their numbers on me. I know where Pedro lives though. He's still in the old neighborhood. Never moved out of his parents' house."

"We'll find a phone book then. You got a car?"

"I'm in no condition to drive. Took a bus here."

"No problem. We'll take my jalopy."

I'm about to lead him to my car when he calls after me, "Hey!"

"What?" I ask.

"I'll help you track down this guy in one condition. You don't catch him. You fucking kill 'im."

I answer as sympathetically as I can, "I'm sorry. I can't do that. I'm not a murderer."

He frowns but ultimately concedes, "Fine. But you better not get in my way if I get my fingers around his scrawny neck."

#

We find a pay phone and use the phone book underneath to find the phone numbers. I call Kingston first.

A woman answers, "Yea?"

"I need to speak to Rocky Kingston," I tell her.

"He ain't here."

"Are you his wife?"

"Fuck, no."

Her crude reply gives me pause.

I calmly say, "This is Detective Forsythe. Who am I speaking to?"

"Bonnie," she answers plainly.

"Bonnie, could you tell Rocky to call his friend, Dwayne, as soon as possible? It's a matter of life and death."

"Whatever."

She hangs up.

"What the hell was that all about?" Dwayne asks me.

"Some dame named Bonnie," I answer. "She sounded drunk or something."

I dial Maivia's number. It rings several times, but he doesn't pick up. I hang up and try again. Still nothing.

"He's not answering," I inform Dwayne and hurry back to my car. "We're goin' to his place. Gimme directions."

Dwayne hurriedly limps to the other side of the car and gets in next to me. He doesn't say it, but I can see the worry in his face.

"It's probably nothin'," I reassure him. "Maybe he's out buyin' milk is all."

"I hope so," he replies somberly. "I don't wanna bury another friend so soon."

#

"So why did Fleck wait all this time to get back at us?" Dwayne asks me as I drive.

"Who knows?" I answer. "My guess is the Joker only recently acquired a taste for killing. The first time he killed someone was probably in self-defense or by accident. Then he realized he was okay with it. Maybe even liked it."

Suddenly, I see this fat guy in a colorful shirt breathlessly running towards us, frantically waving his arms in the air.

"Hey, that's him! That's Pedro!" Dwayne informs me.

I brake the car sharply. The tires screech. The fat guy leans his hands on the hood, trying to catch his breath. He's sweating buckets. I can tell that running isn't something he does regularly.

"You gotta help me!" he wheezes.

Then his head explodes, spraying my windshield with blood.

"Jesus!" Dwayne exclaims.

Pedro's near headless bulk collapses on the hood of my car. And I see him for the first time on the sidewalk, a green-haired clown in a purple suit, smoking revolver in hand. I quickly step out of the car and point my own revolver at him.

"Joker, freeze!" I yell.

"Just shoot him!" Dwayne shouts from inside the car.

The Joker opens fire on me. I duck behind the car door, as if the rusty, old piece of metal would actually provide me with any real protection. The window above it shatters, showering me with glass. I carefully take a peek and see the Joker make a run for it.

"Stay in the car!" I tell Dwayne then chase after the clown.

Joker runs past a startled doorman into a hotel.

"Call the police!" I yell at the doorman and chase the clown inside.

The Joker pushes his way through the crowded lobby.

The people stare at him in confusion until I shout, "Everybody, down! Now!"

They all scream, fearfully hunkering down and covering their heads with their hands. I can't risk hitting a bystander by taking a shot. Joker has no such qualms.

He swings his arm back, recklessly shooting while running from me. And the bastard gets lucky. I take a bullet in the right upper arm that nearly knocks me off my feet. The Joker bulldozes through a door leading to the stairs. I can't raise my right arm, so I pass the gun to my left. I push the door open with my shoulder. The Joker is already a floor above me. He sees me and shoots again. He misses this time. The bullet smacks into the floor two feet away from my left foot. I return fire and also miss. I'm not as accurate with my left hand. I run up the stairs and spot the Joker push through a door leading to the second floor. I chase after him.

I'm bleeding all over my coat sleeve. Starting to feel light-headed. This bullet wound might be more serious than I thought. Should really have it looked at. But I'm so close to catching the bastard. So close to redeeming myself. If I let the Joker get away now, I'd regret it for the rest o' my life.

The door leads to a hallway with several rooms on either side. The Joker kicks a door to one of these rooms down. God, I hope he doesn't decide to use a hostage against me. I run and quickly press my back against the wall next to the open door.

"Fleck, give yourself up!" I yell into the room. "There's no place left to go from in there!"

He replies only with frightening, shrill laughter. I swing around and point the gun through the entrance, just in time to see the Joker throw himself right through the second story glass window.

"That crazy bastard," I growl.

Running solely on adrenaline, I rush forward and launch myself through the shattered window after the clown. Years ago, a fall this high would've been nothing to me. But sometimes, I forget that I'm not a young man anymore. I land badly. I feel pain like fire in my right ankle, and I howl in agony. I fall down and my gun clatters across the pavement out of my reach.

I groan then force myself to a sitting position and scream in defeat to the heavens, "DAMMIT! I almost had 'im!"

I lower my head, huffing furiously. And just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, they do. I see a pair of shiny white shoes walking towards me. I raise my head and see the Joker's silhouette against the midday sun. He points his revolver at me. I laugh bitterly and shake my head.

"I almost got you, didn't I?" I ask.

"Closest anyone's ever come," he sympathetically answers.

Then he shoots me in the chest.

#

I have no idea how long I've been lying on my back, bleeding on the hard, hot cement. Suddenly, Dwayne's big head blots out the sun.

"It's okay, Liam!" he worriedly tells me. "They've called the paramedics. They're on their way. You'll be alright."

I reach up and tightly grab his massive shoulder. It's hard to talk, what with all the blood bubbling up my throat.

"You tell my folks," I whisper. "You tell them how I almost got 'im!"

"Yea, sure," he responds, taking my hand in his. "I'll tell them. I promise."

As my vision begins to blur and I start to feel cold, I can't help but smile because I know that the sergeant would keep his word. I only wish I could see the look on my parents' faces when he tells them.

END


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter. Joker finds love in a thief named Bonnie as Sergeant Dwayne Worthington hunts him down to finish their fight once and for all.

"Well, Sergeant," Marvin Jackson says to Dwayne Worthington with a wide smile. "Looks to me like you don't need me no more."

The sergeant shakes the other man's hand and says, "Thanks for getting me back on my feet, Marv."

"I can't take all the credit. I been a physical therapist for 20 years. Ain't never seen anyone work as hard as you. Like you were in a hurry to get better."

"I was."

"Why's that?"

Dwayne's face darkens, and he growls, "Somethin' I gotta do."

"Mhm. Guess it'll take more than even the Joker to keep you down."

"I've recovered from several bullet wounds before. That's why the other Marines nicknamed me Unkillable."

#

Bonnie falls down after Rocky Kingston gives her another stinging slap across the face in the alley. She can taste the blood in her mouth, and it feels like everything is spinning around her.

"You really think you can steal from me, bitch?!" Rocky snarls. "You think I'd never find out?! You think I'm stupid?!"

Bonnie smirks and says, "No. I think you're dead."

"I'm dead?! I slap you around because I caught you stealin' from me, and I'm dead?!"

"I got a call a week ago to warn you about somethin'. And I never did."

"What're you talkin' about?"

"She's talking about me," a voice calls from behind.

Rocky turns and sees a green-haired clown in a purple suit pointing a revolver at him.

"Oh shit," Rocky squeaks.

He fumbles for the semi-automatic pistol in his pocket, but he isn't fast enough. The Joker shoots him in the chest. Rocky falls, knocking down a pair of garbage cans. He's probably already dead, but the Joker shoots him twice more anyway.

The clown turns and starts to walk away when Bonnie calls after him, "Hey! You're not even gonna take his money?"

The Joker stares at her in confusion and says, "Well,…this isn't a robbery."

Bonnie reaches into Rocky's jacket and pulls out his pistol and wallet. She takes some paper bills out of it and shoves them at Joker.

"Wow!" the Joker exclaims. "That is a lot of money."

"You haven't been robbin' the people you killed, how do you pay for food, or rent, or clown makeup?"

"Actually, money is starting to be a problem."

"Come on," she says, pulling him by his sleeve. "I know where to get more."

"W-Wait! Who are you?!"

"Bonnie Parker."

"Bonnie Parker?! Seriously?! As in Bonnie and Clyde? Your parents named you after that Bonnie Parker?"

"Yea. What's your name?"

"Joker. I-I mean Arthur. Arthur Fleck."

"Arthur," she repeats. Then she smiles mischievously at him and asks, "Arthur, will you be my Clyde?"

The Joker pinches himself in the arm.

#

Bonnie takes the Joker to the second floor of a run-down apartment. She knocks on one of the doors. The TV inside seems to be at full volume. A tall, muscular man answers the door. He looks at Bonnie in surprise then gives Joker a puzzled glance.

"Who's the clown, Bonnie?" the big man asks. "And where's Rocky?"

"You didn't expect to see me again, did you, Bobby?" Bonnie answers with a question. "You thought Rocky was gonna kill me tonight."

Bobby just quietly stares at her dumbfoundingly. Bonnie abruptly shoots him in the gut. The big man stumbles back and falls heavily.

A woman from inside the room shrieks, "Bobby! Bonnie, you bitch! You shot my Bobby!"

She pulls out a machine pistol and screams as she showers bullets at the doorway. Joker and Bonnie quickly crouch and take cover behind the walls on opposite sides of the entrance. The thin walls don't provide much protection as the bullets easily tear through them, but they atleast obscure Joker and Bonnie from the shooter's view.

"Shit! I didn't think Kara would be here!" Bonnie yells at Joker through the deafening noise. "Well, what're you waiting for?! Kill 'er! That's what you do, ain't it?!"

"They don't usually shoot back!" Joker shouts.

He blindfires into the room and misses completely. Kara finally runs out of ammo.

"Shit!" she hisses.

And while she tries to reload, Bonnie shoots her in the chest, killing her.

"Well, that was intense," Joker comments.

Bonnie rushes into the room, stepping over Bobby's enormous corpse. She reaches under a sofa and retrieves an Evel Knievel lunch box.

"Jackpot!" she says with a wide grin, opening the lunch box and showing the stacked paper bills to Joker.

"Wow," the clown says. "That is-"

"A lot of money, I know. Come on. Let's get outta here before the cops show up."

Joker watches Bonnie scamper down the stairs. He pinches himself in the arm again before running after her.

#

The next day, in an abandoned warehouse, Bonnie sits on a wooden bench, swinging her legs like a child, while waiting for the Joker to remove his makeup and change into casual clothes.

"Well, Hello, Mr. Arthur Fleck," she playfully greets him when he finally emerges from the bathroom in simple pants, shirt, and coat with a towel over his shoulder.

Arthur smiles bashfully and lowers his eyes to the ground. Bonnie notes how he is like a totally different person. The Joker seems confident, animated, and unpredictable. Arthur is far more reserved.

"So,…what're we gonna do now?" he asks.

"First, we get breakfast," she answers. "Then, we go back here and practice shooting at some empty bottles and cans. You're a terrible shot."

"Well, usually I just shoot people from about four or five feet away, and mostly when they don't see it coming."

"That's gonna have to change. Rocky used to run a stick up gang in this neighborhood. I know where they stash all their loot. We're gonna hit 'em all. So we're gonna be in a lot more shoot-outs like the one last night."

"Oh. Whoopee?"

#

Bonnie and Arthur have a light breakfast of eggs, bacon, bread, and coffee at a small eatery. While Bonnie babbles on about how she never really got along with her mother, Arthur barely speaks. He just listens. Although one time, he suddenly laughs uncontrollably for no reason and can't stop. People start looking, making Bonnie feel very nervous.

After breakfast, they head back to the warehouse in Bonnie's car.

"Hey, I got somethin' for ya'," Bonnie excitedly tells Arthur.

She opens the trunk of the car and takes out a submachine gun with a drum magazine. She hands the weapon to Arthur.

"It's beautiful," Arthur comments, running his fingers along the gun in admiration.

"Uh-huh," she agrees. "It's a tommy gun."

"Who's Tommy?"

"No. Not Tommy's gun. Tommy gun. Clyde Barrow used a tommy gun during the-"

"I know. I know. I was joking. I used to be a stand-up comedian."

"And now I know why you decided to switch careers."

"Oh, you're a comedienne yourself. How nice."

Bonnie takes some empty bottles off the floor and arranges them in an uneven row over boxes of different sizes several feet away.

She jogs back to Arthur and says, "Go on. Try it out. It's loaded."

"You left me with a loaded gun?" Arthur asks in disbelief. "Haven't you been watching the news? I'm suppose to be crazy."

"You could've killed me in the alley with Rocky. You didn't. I think I'm pretty safe with you. Now, go on. Shoot the bottles."

Arthur holds the tommy gun near his hip. He points it at the bottles and squeezes the trigger. Automatic fire erupts from the gun's barrel. The recoil is so strong that, not only does Arthur miss the bottles entirely, he loses complete control of the weapon. The gun wildly swings upward, and Arthur ends up shooting a few rounds into the ceiling.

"Maybe I should stick with the revolver for now," he embarrassedly admits.

Bonnie chuckles and shakes her head.

"You're such a girl," she quips, taking back the tommy gun.

Arthur takes out his revolver. He closes one eye to aim at a bottle, then squeezes the trigger. He still misses.

"Here," Bonnie offers.

She gets behind Arthur and helps him aim by holding onto his arm. Arthur turns his head towards her. The woman is very pretty, and she smells nice. Bonnie notices him watching her.

She smirks and says, "Eyes front, Clyde."

Arthur blushes. He looks back at the bottle and squeezes the trigger. He still misses.

"Hmm… Maybe you should switch to blunt weapons," Bonnie suggests. "I don't know. Maybe a crowbar or something."

Arthur pinches himself in the arm.

"Why do you keep doing that?" Bonnie asks.

"Doing what?"

"Pinching your arm like that."

"Oh! I'm, uh…trying to figure out if you're real or not," Arthur shyly answers. "I'm kinda' delusional. I mean, for all I know, none of this is real, and I'm actually just a mental patient in Arkham imagining it all."

Bonnie leans forward and tenderly kisses his lips.

"Real enough for ya'?" she asks.

"That's the problem," he answers. "It feels too good to be true."

Bonnie kisses him again, more passionately this time. They wrap their arms around each other.

#

In full formal Marine uniform, Dwayne Worthington attends Rocky Kingston's wake. He gives his condolences to Rocky's grieving mother before joining the other guests for coffee and biscuits. Then he notices a pretty woman with long, frizzy hair checking him out. He decides to approach her.

"I know you," she says before he can even say hi. "You're Dwayne, Rocky's old friend. He used to talk about you all the time."

"Good things?" the sergeant asks with a smile.

"Yea. He proud o' you. He always wished you guys had kept in touch more."

"Yea, we really shoulda'. And you are?"

"Tanya."

"Tanya, you know who did this to him?"

"I don't know nuthin'-"

Dwayne interrupts her with a whisper, "I know about the kind of shit Rocky got himself into. I'm not here for that. I just want the guy that killed him. Now, tell me. Was it the clown?"

Tanya furrows her brow and says, "I'm confused. Are you saying you want the clown that killed him? Or do you mean an actual clown, like with the big shoes and the red nose-?"

"Yes! Was it the Joker?"

"The Joker?! Naw, man. I heard it was Bonnie."

Dwayne remembers Detective Forsythe mentioning a girl named Bonnie when he tried to warn Rocky about the Joker on the phone.

"Who is this Bonnie?" Dwayne asks.

"She was a part of Rocky's crew, but she stole from 'im," Tanya explains. "He was gonna teach her a lesson, except he turns out dead. That same night, somebody shoots up his apartment, steals his stash. So now, Rocky's homies be lookin' for Bonnie at the East Side."

"The East Side? What makes them think she's at the East Side?"

"Well, they wouldn't have known if she and her new beau hadn't drawn attention to themselves in some restaurant."

"How do you mean?"

"I hear this guy she was with started laughin' like a lunatic and couldn't stop."

Dwayne smirks and says, "Did he now?"

#

"Aren't you done yet?" Bonnie groans impatiently near the entrance to the bathroom.

"Don't rush me," Arthur tells her without looking away from the mirror as he applies his makeup. "This takes time. It's a work of art."

"Why you gotta put clown makeup on anyway? It's not a disguise. Everybody who watches the news knows you're the Joker."

"Th-This is my thing, okay?!"

"What is it with guys? Why you all gotta have a thing?!"

"You wanna try it?"

"What am I? A harlequin? Forget it. I'll be in the sedan. Hurry up!"

Bonnie angrily walks away.

Arthur mumbles, "Had sex once and already she's nagging me."

#

Bonnie is listening to the car radio when the Joker finally exits the warehouse, a cigarette in his mouth. And again, Bonnie is surprised by how different he seems. Her sweet, meek Arthur is gone, and this frightening green-haired demon in a purple suit has taken his place.

Joker sits in the passenger seat, shuts the car door, and rests his arm through the open window. He takes the cigarette from his mouth to blow out smoke.

Then, without looking at Bonnie, he says, "Let's go."

The car lurches forward.

#

It's just a few minutes after midnight on a weekday, and the road is nearly empty as Bonnie drives her car back to the inner city.

"This next place we're gonna hit is more dangerous than the last one," Bonnie tells Joker. "See, they're gonna be waitin' for us now, so that place gonna be guarded. I'm talkin' heavy firepower. Big guns! Not like Kara's peashooter from the other night. Hey, you listenin' to me?"

"How long has that guy in the motorcycle been following us?" Joker asks, staring at the rearview mirror.

Suddenly, the car's rear window explodes, showering bits of glass all over the backseat.

"WHAT THE FUCK-?!" Bonnie screams, nearly losing control of the vehicle.

Joker looks back and gasps, "Oh my God. It's Dwayne!"

"Who the fuck is Dwayne?!"

"A guy that bullied me in school."

"And he's still at it?!"

The big man on the big bike aims his big handgun and fires again. The bullet tears a chunk out of the upper right corner of Bonnie's headrest, narrowly missing her head.

"What are you waiting for?!" she shrieks at the Joker. "Shoot back!"

Joker takes out his revolver and shoots through the shattered rear window. He misses Dwayne completely.

"Take the wheel!" Bonnie commands.

"What?! Why?!" Joker asks.

"I'm a better shot!"

"You're also the better driver!"

In spite of his protests, Joker obeys, and Bonnie quickly passes over him to switch seats. Now in the passenger's seat, Bonnie aims her pistol and fires at Dwayne. She hits him in the left shoulder. The sergeant doesn't even flinch.

"What is this guy, a zombie?!" Bonnie yells.

Dwayne shoots the car's left, rear wheel. The tire gets shredded, and the Joker loses control. The sedan crashes into a large stone pillar under a bridge. Dwayne stops the bike. He holsters his gun, gets off the vehicle, and approaches the wrecked car.

Joker groggily leans back into the seat. Blood streaks down the right side of his face.

"B-Bonnie?" he dizzily calls.

He turns his head and finds her unconscious in her seat. He is about to check on her when he is startled by the sound of his car door being wrenched from its hinges. Dwayne tosses the door away. He grabs the Joker by the collar, roughly pulls him out of the vehicle, and throws him on the ground.

"I could just shoot you now. Fill you with bullets like you did me," the sergeant says. "But I think I'll kick your ass first, for old time's sake."

Joker pushes himself off the ground. With a roar, he lunges at Dwayne, throwing lefts and rights at the big man's stomach.

"Okay, I can see you punching me, but I'm just not feeling it," Dwayne tells him. "This is how you throw a punch."

With a short right jab to the face, he knocks the Joker off his feet, into the air, and right back down on the ground.

A gunshot echoes under the bridge. For a second, the Joker thinks Dwayne had shot him, and he searches himself for injuries. But it was Bonnie, standing next to her car, who had shot Dwayne in the back.

Dwayne casually turns around and tells her, "You interrupted me. I was in the middle of something here. Arthur and I were just going down memory lane."

Bonnie shoots him again. This time, on the right side of his chest. Dwayne just chuckles. He draws his large handgun.

"No, no, no-!" Joker yells.

Dwayne shoots Bonnie in the stomach, catapulting her into the open car door. She then falls face first into the ground.

The Joker had lost his revolver in the crash. He frantically looks around for something he can use as a weapon.

"Now, where were we?" Dwayne asks.

But as he turns, he is suddenly met by a crowbar to the left temple. Dwayne staggers back. The gun falls from his hand. Joker hits him again. This time, on the right side of the big man's head. Dwayne falls to his knees. Joker snarls as he brings the metal bar down on the sergeant's head. Then, the clown drops the crowbar, picks up Dwayne's big handgun, and furiously points it at his enemy's face.

"You can't kill me," Dwayne wearily says with a chuckle, his entire head, a bloody mess. "I'm unkillable. You hear me?! UNKILLA-!"

The Joker shoves the front end of the gun into Dwayne's mouth. Then, he squeezes the trigger. The back of Dwayne's head explodes, and the big man falls heavily on his side.

Joker hears the faint sounds of sirens from a distance, and he quickly rushes to Bonnie's side. He flips her around on her back and starts to pick her up.

"There he is," Bonnie groggily tells him with a smile on her lips. "There's my Clyde."

"Come on," Joker whispers. "We gotta get outta here. The cops are coming."

"No. YOU gotta get outta here."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You're not leaving me…because you made me up."

The Joker stares at her in confusion and says, "What?!"

"You made me up, Silly," Bonnie repeats as she hears the sirens getting closer. "I'm one o' your delusions. You got me from a Bonnie and Clyde movie or something. Come on, I look like her. I even have a tommy gun. Who has one o' those anymore."

"Hmm. You're right. That was kinda weird."

"Now, go on. Get outta here. Go imagine yourself a supermodel or something."

Joker stands up. He looks down at Bonnie and says, "I just knew you were too good to be true."

Then he turns around and starts walking towards the darkness. Tears pour from Bonnie's eyes as she watches the Joker laugh and dance further and further away.

END


End file.
